So the Muzzies’ latest attack is on Paris, and as usual, politically correct America MUST make excuses for them and insist they’re “good” people, just like they make excuse after excuse for the blacks. And why wouldn’t they? People are obsessed with victim-blaming after all, and making excuses for the perps, or else so many rape victims wouldn’t have to hear that they were somehow asking for it. 

But people will be people which means they’ll go on embracing the Muzzies, the blacks, and believing there’s this great God sitting up in the sky that loves us all. Hell, I’m waiting for the day we’re all expected to praise and protect child molesters for the sake of “political correctness.” 

Really, I don’t understand how we can watch Muslims and blacks do what they do and then get all hot and bothered about it if someone dares to express their highly unpopular opinion against them. Well, folks, you can’t have it both ways. You’re either for or against these violent groups! 

Did I ever tell you how much I hate politics? 

I experienced some anxiety after Tom left yesterday and had to take a Lorazepam. The rest of the day I was depressed and drowsy. I now realize that for whatever reason, I’m never going to get better and so I just have to accept that this is who I am now. I’ll have some good days mixed in, but the old Jodi is gone forever. 

A follower/friend suggested it could be the disease itself and not my medication. Well, I know that this is one of the diseases listed that can trigger our fight-or-flight hormones, but why now? Why now that I’m on a medication that’s supposed to mask the damn symptoms? And why didn’t I experience this before I was diagnosed? I doubt it’s all the medication, though. I mean what happened when we tried to get me to tolerate the 88s clearly was, but now it could be a mix of things, including menopause, so she’s got a point. My body has proven for 5-6 months it can handle 75s and that’s where my body’s at right now. 

*sighs* If it wasn’t this it’d just be something else. I’m destined to be going through something or another be it legal battles, poverty, or what I’m going through now. When things are at their worst I almost miss being stuck in that dumpy old trailer with no money. Really, if someone could have told me on July 10th, 2013, “Walk out of here now and this is what will happen,” I’d still be there. We just wouldn’t be poor anymore. That all ended in 2012. Hmm… maybe if we end up in the poorhouse again my health will improve? Or better yet my sanity? 

All I know is that this is the new me, it’s not going away, and I have to figure out what to do about it to make it more livable. Have some wine when I start feeling anxious? Its effects would at least not be as long-lasting as the lorazepam which would be helpful when I’m busy or trying to stay up longer to push my schedule around. 

Should I ask the shrink for the strongest trank she’s got? 

Should I end it all after our vacation? 

Or should I just let myself suffer and accept that for reasons I’ll probably never understand, it was simply meant to be this way? 

I think I’ll start with getting something like a 4-pack of wine coolers. Don’t worry. I won’t abuse it and become an alkie. It’s just for when the anxiety really bites and I’m all alone. I’ll probably feel fine over the weekend… until he returns to work Monday.